


Like Real People Do

by Crazyloststar



Series: Home With You [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, College Student Prompto, Crush at First Sight, M/M, Muses, Writer Gladio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 05:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19288645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazyloststar/pseuds/Crazyloststar
Summary: But Prompto, sitting there in the corner chewing on his pencil as he studies. That is clearly enough for Gladio's desperate heart.And he takes it willingly.***Day three of Promptio Week: InkDay four of Promptio Week: Coffee/Flower Shop AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3: Ink
> 
> I'm being a bit sneaky here and day 3/4 prompts are in the same verse, so chapter one is today and two tomorrow! Something quick and sweet [like Prompto :33]

Gladio assumes it's a matter of time until he’s figured out, so he might has well take advantage of things while he can.

It’s Day Eight of sitting at the same table in his usual small coffee shop. He’s situated in the corner so he can observe everything quietly as he sips his coffee, usually while he pretends to be writing.

Except, it’s also Day Eight of him _writing_. Actual real honest to gods words floating from his stubborn brain to his fingers to the screen of his laptop and holy shit it feels amazing.

Sure, it isn't what he should be writing, but shit Gladio doesn't care. He missed the exhilaration of getting lost in his words, of coming out of a haze not remembering anything but seeing what’s come out of his mind reflected on the screen and being able to read it again.

He should be working on his next novel. Instead, he’s been waxing poetic about the person who has been showing up, eight days in a row now, to study in the opposite corner of the cafe. A college student, clearly. Soft blond hair that sometimes was styled up, sometimes tucked under a beanie because of the cold. Sometimes messy and framing his face. But always golden, always bright.

The first day he had walked into the shop Gladio had almost spilled his coffee cup, he had been so caught off guard. On Day Three Gladio had found reason to pass by him and saw his face up close - the freckles dusting his cheeks, the blue of his eyes.

Day Five he had heard the barista call his name; Prompto.

It rolls off his tongue when Gladio speaks it alone in his apartment.

His writing on this day, and the days before, is focused on observations, of imagining the kind of person he was. It was mostly exercises in just writing. But it would then get him in the brain space to write other things, and his editor was of course more than thrilled to hear that he had been making progress finally. The publishers wanted their fourth book, after all.

Gladio huffs as he looks back down at his laptop screen. Maybe some people could churn out romance novels like fucking nothing, but Gladio, he needs inspiration, something to draw from.

He depends on feelings. His best works had come from when he was feeling intense emotion, the rush of it all, the need, the lust.

And up until eight days ago, he had been ah, in a dry spell.

But Prompto, sitting there in the corner chewing on his pencil as he studies. That is clearly enough for Gladio's desperate heart. And he takes it willingly.

 

 

Day Nine, Prompto isn’t there when Gladio steps into the cafe. He tries not to look around like he’s lost, or that he has lost something. He situates himself in his usual corner and tries to focus.

But his screen remains blank for an hour.

Gladio looks around, because certainly there has to be someone else who is interesting enough for him to use as a muse. Certainly.

There are no words at the end of the day.

 

 

Day Ten, Prompto isn't there again, and Gladio tries to quell the panic in his chest. It's a mix of being terrified because he needs to write, like blood in his veins, but also he has this fear that something happened to the guy.

He brushes it off because some people have actual lives, and don't just sit in coffee shops with silly crushes trying to write trashy romance novels.

He stares at his laptop willing words to come. The screen blurs a little because he can't quite focus, and there’s a panic bubbling in his chest and -

“Um,” a voice, soft and shaky, is in front of him.

Gladio looks up to see blondie, _Prompto_ , dodging eye contact but gripping his books in front of him.

“This seat taken?” he gestures to the chair on the other side of the table. Gladio just stares. Prompto takes a small step forward and Gladio wonders if this is what it’s like when people meet angels when they die.

“It's just that,” Prompto continues, eyes still darting around, “it’s packed here today, and uh, you’re here all the time and quiet so I figured, maybe we could share a table?”

Gladio looks around and sees that yes, it is full in the cafe. He looks back up at Prompto, and realizes his mouth is just hanging open. He's a writer and yet his ability to form any fucking sentence in that moment escapes him --

Prompto takes a step away. “I mean sorry I just, I didn't mean to intrude-!”

“Please!” Gladio finally retrieves control of his motor skills enough to motion to the seat and slide his laptop closer to him. Prompto stops moving, thank the gods, and he can see some tension release in his jaw. “Would be nice to have company.”

Prompto offers a nervous smile as he nods and takes a seat. It's the most beautiful thing Gladio has ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto didn’t think it would work - just walk up to him, Cindy had said. What's the worst he can do, she asked? 
> 
> “Probably crush me with his thighs,” Prompto had replied very pointedly as they stood outside of the cafe on Day Ten of Hot Writer Watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Coffee Shop AU
> 
> Prompto POV in the same AU as chp 1 which really just means Prompto thirsting over Gladio but aren't we all

Prompto didn’t think it would work - just walk up to him, Cindy had said. What's the worst he can do, she asked?

“Probably crush me with his thighs,” Prompto had replied very pointedly as they stood outside of the cafe on Day Ten of Hot Writer Watch.

Cindy had just given him a look, and so he couldn't argue any further. Prompto didn't comment that maybe he liked the implications of Hot Writer Guy crushing him if it meant getting to be between his legs. That could be a great way to go.

 

 

Three days later, he and _Gladio_ have a new routine. It isn't much different than the routine he had before, going to that little coffee shop and studying, but now he's sitting with Gladio at his usual table in the corner. Gladio spends the time always typing away furiously, and he never questions Prompto sitting there, even when the shop isn't busy, when Prompto could sit literally anywhere else.

He looks over his laptop at Gladio, amber eyes furrowed deep in concentration. He hasn't asked to see what he's been working on, but he had figured out Gladio wasn't a student pretty early on. He never had textbooks. Just a notebook he sometimes scribbled in and his laptop.

Today he has his glasses on, which Prompto thinks are so fucking cute, and half his hair pulled into a small ponytail and he's convinced the man is out to destroy him with sexy.

Gladio also never asks him any personal questions, so he assumes that means they were just. There, existing in each other’s space. And that's cool, too. Gladio seems nice enough, and okay ya Prompto of course first thought he was super hot and had imagined...a lot of things. That were inappropriate, but the size of the guys hands, gods...

Prompto clears his throat and tries to keep his eyes down on his textbook and memorize the different types of paintings and symbolism and… He really can't focus when this guy's in front of him. He lowers himself a little so his face is hopefully hidden because he didn't need Gladio to see him blushing, gods no.

 

 

 

Day Six of New Seating. It's raining, and Prompto really doesn't want to go outside. He could just as easily study there at his place, though he knows he wouldn’t - the distractions would be boundless. Already his shark boyfriend was calling his name to pick up his Switch.

So Prompto packs up his stuff, throws on a sweater and raincoat and grabs his rainbow umbrella. He stares at it for a moment, before huffing and heading out the door.

The shop is unsurprisingly nearly empty as the storm rages around it.

Gladio isn't in his usual corner. Prompto swallows the disappointment. It's not like they have a standing date or anything. They just always happened to be in the same place and took advantage of each other's--

“Hey,” a low voice behind him makes him jump up and yelp, echoing in the shop. He winces but turns and there's Gladio and the gods really are out to get him.

Prompto has to pick his jaw off the floor. He's aware but he also is unable to move, please leave a message. Gladio looks like a photo ripped off one of those trashy racy books come to life.

He clearly didn't have an umbrella but had walked to the cafe. His hair is curling and wet and matted against his face despite the ponytail he clearly attempted to do to keep his hair under control. He did wear a raincoat, but his pants are soaked, but most importantly he is _wet_ and why do the gods hate him and -

“What, don’t believe in umbrellas?” Prompto says with a smirk to hide how much he wants to lick the droplets of water running down Gladio’s jaw. He sets his umbrella in the holder at the door. Gladio follows him to the corner, nonchalant about flicking raindrops off his jacket.

“I don't, actually.”

As they sit at their usual spot, Prompto gives him a look because who even thinks like that. “Ok big guy, gonna need you to elaborate on that.”

He freezes at the casual nickname. They had hardly exchanged more than a few words, aside from names, or discussing problematic noisy patrons of the shop. Prompto hopes he won't destroy him.

Or maybe he hopes he does, he's been really confused lately.

“They’re pointless.” Gladio pulls his laptop out of the bag that had been hidden under his raincoat. "Water doesn't hurt people. Umbrellas do.”

Prompto let out a loud laugh and covered his mouth. “Did you just-” he wheezes and tries to stop laughing, but Gladio doesn't look mad. Instead he smiles. Instead he looks sheepish and oh gods.

“Ya ya, laugh it up. My friends do all the time.”

“What the fuck,” he couldnt stop laughing, shit, “sorry ive just never heard anything like that in my life.”

“People get poked! Eyes get hurt! There’s blood!” Gladio gestures wildy and Prompto can only think _oh no he’s so cute help me_.

“You have clearly been the victim of many umbrella attacks.”

“I’m tall. People dont see me with their stupid umbrellas. It would be better if everyone used those clear ones at least. But instead I just get beat up while everyone hides.”

Prompto realizes they haven't ordered anything, just plopped down in their seats. Oops. So he makes a snap decision and stands and gestures to the counter. “What are you having?”

Gladio studies him, but then smiles and Prompto thinks he might be blushing. “Dirty Chai, extra dirty.”

“Wow, uh ok” Prompto laughs, “out in public and everything.”

“Now you’re definitely paying,” Gladio roll his eyes and winks. Prompto tries to hide his sputtering by turning away and sliding over to the counter. Drinks ordered, he hangs out by the pick up side. He wants to see if they could keep talking, maybe he could even...get Gladio to agree to hang out _not_ at the coffee shop, maybe -

“Prompto!” the barista calls out. He grabs their drinks and notices they formed hearts in the foam in both of them. He smiles wide and walks back to their table, presenting the drinks with a flourish.

“S’that?” Gladio looks down.

“Hearts! Isn't it cute!”

“Ha, cool,” Gladio inspects his, then Prompto's. “What are you drinking?”

“Cold brew with caramel.” He takes a long sip and almost sighs.

“Holy shit are your veins just coffee?”

“About ninety percent I would say,” he boasts, “that's my secret, I'm always caffeinated.”

Gladio chuckles. He lifts up the coffee cup and holds it in the air between them, and meets Prompto's eyes. “To rainy days, with good company,”

Prompto almost spills his cup trying not to shake as their cups meet, a soft sound between them as they touch. Their eyes hold each other as they cheer.

“Ya, to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these two are gonna be just fine :3

**Author's Note:**

> listen i'm a sucker for Gladio being a big soft guy okay. 
> 
> catch me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/crazyloststar)!


End file.
